270 Days of Magic
by Querulous Night
Summary: When the permanently arguing Near and Mello transfer to Hogwarts, some rather entertaining chaos ensues between their unfortunate teachers and peers. Harry and Ron in particular despise the pair after enduring the worst train journey to Hogwarts they've ever had, but they soon come to realise there is more to the two students than they think. . . (Better than the two genres sound)
1. An Unfortunate Journey

"Look, I know you took my chocolate!"

"Why would I take your chocolate?"

"You're Near, for god's sake! You'd do this just to wind me up!"

"If I had, I'd be pretty pleased with the outcome."

"Near, I swear that when we get to Hogwarts I'm going to grab your head, kick it a few times, slam it against a table and toss it in the Lake."

"That would work. . . but how would you get your chocolate back then?"

Harry sighed inwardly as the two continued bickering. They'd been on the Hogwarts Express for two hours now and the pair had argued for every single minute of the journey. Hermione had managed to escape to another girls' carriage after an hour of constant squabbling, but all Harry's friends' carriages were full. After searching for fifteen minutes, Harry had resigned himself to waiting it out. But they never even paused in their fights, and Harry seriously believed he'd go insane if he had to listen to a minute more of unceasing argument.

Beside him, Ron slumped in his seat and shot Harry an angry look. Harry resented the glare, but he couldn't exactly blame Ron. It had been Harry, stupid Harry, who invited them to sit in their carriage. Rumour had it they were two Chinese geniuses who had only just discovered they were magic, and Harry was. . .well, curious. Is that a bad thing? he thought. Definitely in this case, his mind answered immediately. If only they had turned him down! But no. Mello and Near had accepted his offer, then promptly ignored him for the next 120 minutes (if you don't count the seven times that Mello had asked Harry to lend him a few Galleons for the sweet trolley). Well, I know one thing for sure, Harry thought grimly. I'm never spending time with these two again.

Harry was so lost in his hatred that he hardly registered the whoosh of steam that marked the Hogwarts Express stopping, only noticing when Ron leapt to his feet and bounded towards the carriage door. He thankfully grabbed his case and was about to leave the cabin when Near spoke to him for the first time. "Harry-san?"

"What?"

"Thank you for allowing us in your carriage."

Near bowed stiffly from the waist, his movement more robotic than respectful. Mello mumbled something that Harry guessed was "Yeah, thanks", although he couldn't be sure. "Oh, it was no big deal. " Harry replied, out of politeness rather than friendliness. "Bye." And with that, he fled.

* * *

**I was reading various HP x Death Note crossovers and I thought it'd be interesting to write my own take on them. Sorry this first chapter is so short; the next one should be much longer, and I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing! Any ideas for future chapters, opinions on my writing (I know it's kinda drawn-out. I'm attempting to fix that) or general Death Note/ Harry Potter nerdiness is welcome in the reviews, as is any corrections or edifications (new word. Ha). Oh yeah, and I should probably thank y'all for reading. So, thanks. Go do something else for a few hours while I write. Just don't practise Mello's method of punishing chocolate thieves (he ****_really_**** loves those Chocolate Frogs)!**

**- Querulous Night**


	2. The Sorting Hat

The Great Hall was heaving, as usual. Pumpkin juice slopped over leather trunks, fourth-years argued over tins of broompolish, sixth-years cracked jokes that grew louder and louder and the Hogwarts ghosts chattered away animatedly to anyone who would listen. Harry grinned. Hogwarts was home to him and had been from the moment he stepped in. The first day back was his homecoming each year. Ron could see that, Harry thought as he glanced at his friend's sauce-splattered face, and so could Hermione. And his third year was going to be better than ever. More practising Quidditch in the rainy evenings, more dozing in the common-room pretending to do homework, more sneaking out with Ron and Hermione under the Invisibility Cloak, more feasts, more friends, more fun. . . "I'm glad I'm back," Harry found himself telling Nearly Headless Nick. "I really am."

"Silence please," intoned Professor Dumbledore's sonorous voice and the Great Hall fell quiet. "Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts! I trust your holidays have left you sufficiently rested and ready for school, because I have a suprise quiz for you!" The whole school groaned. "Only joking," said Dumbledore, a twinkle in his eye. "Now the usual reminders. Argus Filch has asked me to tell all students that Exploding Gum is banned, especially when placed on corridor floors. The punishment for anyone found with it is a week's detention. If anyone wishes to know all the other banned items, please consult Mr Filch's 325-item list. I must inform new students, and remind some older ones, that the Forbidden Forest is, unsurprisingly, forbidden. The punishment for entering is much worse than a week's detention, I can assure you, but if any of you have any doubts about that I'll attempt to collect most of the pieces to be sent home to your grieving family. Anyway," he smiled with a clap of his hands, "we have some first-years to sort!"

Professor McGonagall led in a shivering line of small-looking first-years. "Blimey," whispered Ron. "Were we ever that small?"

"Shh, Ronald." Hermione reminded him. "Look, they're starting!" She murmured reverently.

Caps in hand, the long line of first-years trailed up to the Sorting Hat. "Abercromie, George!" McGonagall called, and a shaking first-year stumbled up and pulled the Sorting Hat on. Harry looked at him, wondering, as Ron had said, if they were ever as small as that. He had scared eyes and rumpled blond hair, but other than that he didn't tell Harry much. The Hat evidently didn't find much either. After a second or two it shouted "Hufflepuff!" and the boy pulled it off with a look of relief plastered all over his face. "Brownes, Matilda!" McGonagall shouted, and Harry felt his eyes drift shut. . .

"And now, we have two new students who have come from Japan to be with us. This is Mello and this is Near." Dumbledore's pleasant baritone voice cut through Harry's daydream. He sat up and looked around him, only to see the two arguers - Near and Mello, wasn't it? - standing next to the Sorting Hat. Neither looked at all worried though; Near was leaning against a stone pillar, evidently considering something, and a chocolate-stained Mello was scowling out at everyone. Already whispers were beginning to ripple down the tables. "Mello? Near? What kind of names are they?"

"Near just sounds so poncy. I but he'll be this stuck-up little rich kid."

"Why don't they have surnames, anyway?"

"Look at Mello, standing there with his mouth covered in chocolate!"

"How old does he think he is, five?"

"Who do they think they are, the little bast-"

Hermione's hand was clamped over Ron's mouth. "Stop it," she said firmly. "Give them a chance."

"They argued for two hours solid and you want me to give them a chance?"

"Just be quiet!"

Professor McGonagall beckoned Mello forward and he grinned a smile of triumph. "I was first," he whispered out the corner of his mouth. Sitting on the rough wooden stool, he quickly pulled the Sorting Hat on.

Oh. Wow. This is interesting.

Wait. You talk? And you're magic? I'm going to have to find out how to do that!

So much ambition. . . So much rivalry. . . And an incredibly keen mind too.

I bet Near will be so jealous if I can animate something magically. There's no way he could, the little sheep.

You've got a fiery spirit too, I see. Although it seems to be misdirected. . .

He just does what he's told, never thinks for himself. . . Wait, what? Misdirected?

And I can see you'd work for hours if it meant beating Near.

Misdirected? Are you saying I'm MISDIRECTED?

Control yourself. You could be so much greater, you know. It's a pity.

A pity? A PITY!? You filthy old hat! You've been corrupted by age! You wouldn't know misdirected if it bit you on the face!

Well, I can see where I'm going to have to put you. But I'd think you'd thrive elsewhere.

I AM thriving, you stupid old hunk of leather! You disgusting, germ-laden, nit-ridden old bundle of cow skin!

Very well.

"SLYTHERIN!"

There was a resounding cheer from the Slytherin table, who all congratulated themselves with backslaps and pumpkin juice toasts. The Ravenclaw table had visibly wilted, and Professor Flitwick had flopped miserably in his too-big chair and was barely visible.

"Near!" McGonagall announced, and Near looked up with the slightly confused air of a person who has been disturbed whilst thinking deep things. He glanced at the Sorting Hat and seemed to remember where he was, walking over and carefully putting the Sorting Hat on his head.

. . . You know, you're just as remarkable as the previous one.

You mean Mello? You made the wrong decision there. Mello should be in Gryffindor.

He gave me no choice.

That's just an excuse. I thought you're meant to do what's right for the student?

Slytherin was right for him.

So were all the houses! You know he was a born Gryffindor!

. . . You care about him, don't you?

Yes.

He hates you. His ambition and rivalry has turned itself into anger. He despises everything that you have done or will do, simply becuase he hasn't.

Yes. I think I always knew that, all along. . . But he's greater in so many ways. He only lets himself see his failures. If only. . .

Near, please. Stop it. Fate is unchangeable.

. . . And that's all you have to say? Your fate was to grow old and eventually be thrown away. Someone changed that for you. Why can't I change Mello's fate?

You know the answer to that.

. . . Because he won't let me. He's too proud and too angry to let me fix him. He would rather die worthless than die someone else's way.

. . . Near. Why do you act so cold-hearted? You. . .

I don't know. I guess. . . it's who I am now.

They turned Mello into a failure and you into a robot. Why do you put up with them, Near? Why?

I. . . I always wanted to be like L. He let them control his business. He trusted them. I . . . trusted them too.

. . . . . . You know, you're nothing like what I expected. I thought I knew exactly where I was going to place you.

Please. Can't you move Mello? I know you've done it before, back in 1282. He. . . I want to give him a chance.

Even if he won't take it?

Even if he won't take it.

Hmm. . . Very well. If he proves that he is better suited in Gryffindor by performing acts of valour, bravery, chivalry and compassion, I shall consider moving him. You have my word.

T-Thank you. But. . .

I know. It'll be hard for him. But with his strength of mind, if he wants to he will overcome his challenges.

"Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table erupted in clapping, whooping and stamping the ground with glee as their newest student walked over. Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Bloody hell," Ron whispered.

* * *

**Hellooo again! : Welcome to chapter 2 *does a little curtsey* I think my brain is on caffeine, even though I haven't had any. That's why I'm writing these wacky chapter notes! Anyway, I think I might introduce a little poll thang soon because the plot demons slaving away in my caffeine-fueled mind have given me an idea about a romance starring Hermione, Near, Mello and possibly Ron, and I'd just like to see how well this is doing and if I should attempt to write that (first time writing Hermione properly, first romance). Anyway, thanks as usual for reading this and all that blah., especially those of you who've been favouriting and following! (This will be so humiliating if I have zero favs/follows). Anyways, I've gotta feed the plot demons so byeee!**

**- Querulous Night**


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